


Martin Freeman, In Person

by Lue4028



Category: Fargo (2014), Martin Freeman - Fandom, Sherlock (TV), The Office (UK)
Genre: Eichmann Screening, Gen, John Watson - Freeform, The Eichmann Show, The Eichmann Show Martin Freeman, martin freeman - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-14
Updated: 2015-04-14
Packaged: 2018-03-22 17:09:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3736903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lue4028/pseuds/Lue4028
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What's he like? A fan POV<br/>Basically he's a decent person, and he doesn't hate you.<br/>Skip to next chapter for Martin's entrance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Phoenix Theatre April 12 10:30AM - 1:30PM Elements regarding the narrator may or may not be fiction, but the Martin related things are all nonfiction. Try not judge the person(s) depicted in this retelling, which has been kept realistic for the benefit of the reader. People aren't perfect.

The first thing that struck me about Martin Freeman was that everyone just calls him “Martin”. It seems like common sense, to call a first person by their first name, but before then Martin was always MartinFreeman to me, last name mandatory. He wasn’t a person, he was a 2-D picture on a screen, whose face I had memorized after drawing one too many times. He was just a bunch of moving pixels, yes, but somehow he was extraordinarily effective at conveying emotion to me.

His acting was so subtle, counter-intuitive, complex, watching him was a real trip in human psychology, just like the actor himself, who is a convolution of inextricable and incomprehensible contradictions. The artistic complexity in his every microexpression generated collage of realism that unmasks the barbaric irrationality of human nature. Done with such subtlety, he could act at a latent, visceral , almost unperceivable level above anything I’d ever seen- making it original, novel to boot. The result was so convincing it imbued his characters with a real, beating heart, while simultaneously cutting to centre of mine. Martin was transfixing and brutally realistic, and even the small things he did, especially the small things he did, were exhilarating.

When I arrived in London in a quest for inspiration, I quickly sought out North Gower street, and went to setlock, which I will not detail here for now. But I did not see Martin very much as he was typically at a distance of 20 metres or more, and, having forgotten I was near-sighted, I didn't bring my glasses. It became apparent he wasn't going to Sherlocked, which may have been unfortunate, but I was glad to be spared the expense. I resolved I wouldn't likely see him before my study abroad time was up in June, or for the rest of the foreseeable future.

But then, in one of many freak strokes of luck, I was made aware that he would be doing a Q and A in April. Because I wasn't sure where, I fell into a slump, feeling as though I was dreadfully missing out, having come all this way. But by another lucky coincidence, I stumbled over the details of the event on Twitter. He would be going to a Q and A in London, tickets for 11 pounds, cheaper than normal cinema. It seemed all too convenient, an event with Martin just popped up in the right place on the calendar.

I thought about what to ask Martin, what to say, even though I didn’t expect to talk to him, or see him very much. Someone remarked later to me they were happy no one made any stupid comments like “hey, martin..” at the Q and A but that’s kind of what I wanted to do. I didn't want to be a shit or affront him though. I didn’t want to eff up if anything out of respect for him. I wanted to learn about him, interrogate him really, but asking for signature was about as useless as a scribble of ink on a scrap of paper to me.

I was on the tube that day, and crafted an ideal conversation in my head when the idea of talking about the Oyster card popped into my brain. “Hey, so did you end up getting an oyster card, or is that not practical for celebrities?” If he replied in the negative and I'd say “Well, you could have mine, if you wanted. I won’t be needing it when I go back to the states.” Would he take it? It's very open-ended. I later learned Martin was winding that guy up on the radio when he said he didn't know what an Oyster card was. I originally thought it was possible he didn't because he was the “absent-minded” artist sort (pot calling the kettle black) but.. Martin would do that to that guy, he has an MO and that's it. I would’ve come off as an idiot asking that question. Or not. Could've been a way to talk about talk about Oyster cards again. I wonder if he has an Oyster card. It's really not practical for him is it? That was a whole paragraph on Oyster cards. Maybe I should've gotten him to sign my Oyster card. 

The morning of, I woke up, took a shower, got dressed, almost forgot my ticket, actually did forget my glasses. I set out at 8:45. My internet had stopped working on my phone, making it hard to navigate, but later proved to be a good thing, one of the many uncanny strokes of good luck I had that day. My father was trying to call me and get me to book a flight to Rome to meet with him. Had I gotten his calls I would’ve had to explain exactly why I was detained in Finchley, London, and what was so pressing I couldn’t meet him when he’d journeyed across the pond.

I was nervous as hell, afraid of emotional fall-out. This man had gotten to me, could sway my emotions (make me happy?), and when he left I knew I would be wallowing in murderous boredom, with work and art being my only form of respite. I was also worried that he might not be interesting after all, a let down. I tried to dampen my feelings and started telling to myself be rational, be rational, be rational. I made the executive decision that I wouldn’t be emotional without warrant and view things from a completely balanced point of view. He was, after all, just a man in real life, and that was okay. Not the larger-than-life, dramatic characters he played, John Watson, Milton Fruchtman, Richard III.

I dipped into Southwark station and breathed with relief when my Oyster card worked. Unlike my phone, it seemed to be on my side today. On the train, I considered writing out the cute fanfic epilogue scene I had imagined yesterday while falling asleep, of John’s daughter taking socio tips from Sherlock to get John to tell her he loves her (like how Sherlock does in the forgive me John scene), and then John realising what she's doing and masking his embarrassment with flustered anger at the both of them. But I wasn't enough at ease to enter the comfort zone of writing.

I came off at east finchley and walked across the street, where I found a few people waiting on the steps. I asked the girl next to me, of Asian decent, what they were waiting for and she confirmed in a foreign accent it was the Eichman show. I recognized two people from setlock on the steps, a brunette Blaire, a redhead Caroline, and Serena, a charismatic girl with hair dyed platinum blonde, and talked with them.

They made fun of Ben in Shanghai and his not-so-great photos (he was apparently there for a car commercial), told me about apple talks one of which Amanda and Martin had attended a few years ago despite saying they wouldn’t, Letters Live with Ben which I had neither attended nor watched, and Blaire invited me to an event the following day about what I do not recall. They also talked about Sherlocked, being gold ticket members, and this random person they said was rumoured to be going, (at first I thought they were talking about Martin but apparently not so not my concern really). They asked me, a weekend ticket holder, if I’d been able to select the talks I’d wanted to go to, and I told them I was mainly a martin fan, so I didn’t care much for the photoshoots. I did make a mental note to go back and see if I could buy some talk tickets (which I hadn’t been aware of).

There was also a woman wearing a dress who talked about being fat and menopausal, and that she was happy Ulna Stubbs was going. She was apparently one of those Platinum/VIP holders for over a grand in pounds. She also had some info on how Martin Freeman’s body language had been different on stage during a two-year prior event than other bbc Sherlock actors- Louise Brealey, and the Gavin character, what's it- Rupert. She said that while other actors were very cautious and contained, Martin didn’t really care at all how he appeared. He was unconventionally not self-conscious on stage, to an unusual extreme. There was also a setlock Russian girl, Theresa, with short brown hair and an excited, fast voice who had met Benedict at previous setlocks, notably at the deserted underground station used for the Forgive me John scene. When Ben left filming, and then retuned (because he was driving in the wrong direction, was it?) she'd talked to Ben one on one, and also happened upon him again afterwards and had to explain she wasn't stalking him.

She was talking with another girl in front of us about how she had informants, people who sent her stuff about events that she didn’t have time for because she was working, (I considered asking for her tumblr for this reason but didn’t get around to it) and lastly, I caught a blurb she asked about how Martin shows up for charity but not necessarily for publicity events such as Sherlocked. I asked what Blaire thought about Martin not going to Sherlocked and she just replied he didn’t seem like he’d want to. I also asked Ariel on tumblr and got a vague response about how the british media is “complicated”. She also reblogged some anon asking about forcing Martin and Amanda to go to Sherlocked, which was a little more elucidating.

 

 

> Anonymous asked: Martin's absence isn't excuse, i remember there was an event that Amanda attended with Mofftiss, i just can't remember where and Martin wasn't here. i'm pretty sure actors' contracts include PR work as well, they could easily "force" if not Martin then Amanda attend if they wanted to have them there.
> 
> ...it was a Q&A/interview in a panel with Moffat, Gatiss and Ben Stephenson. I know many others who feel just as strongly as you dear nonny, but there’s obviously a whole hell of a lot to this we aren’t seeing. In the States when I worked PR/Marketing in theatres, I would agree with you. Many of the actor contracts we did I specifically requested there be a marketing clause requesting these types of things. From what I’ve heard though, at least through comments from Tumblrs who seem to know a bit more, that might not be how things really work in the UK/Film/TV world. At least not so strictly. And especially for the bigger names. 

My personal theory has become quite concrete now, I can’t shake it. Martin is labour and Marxist, what he’s doing, bailing on the ripoff stuff but keeping the charity, seems to coincide with those philosophies.

Complaining why she was doing this, perhaps because the cold was uncomfortable, Serena would count down every ten minutes to the 10:30 mark. A few suited security guards were inside the theatre, likely discussing their game plan.

I stood on the steps, encroaching on Blaire’s space a bit, looking for Candace. I didn’t see her, although the line had grown to twenty or more people. Then Candace stepped out of the line, and waved at me, saying “hey” and I smiled and automatically said hi back with a eager wave. She said was sorry for not messaging me in “like forever” and that we should hang out. I thought I would go back and talk with her, but it was 10:30 and the doors were about to open anyway. A few people had cut into the theatre as special guests, most prominently one of the grandparents of the director according to Blaire, a delivery girl with a package, and a teenage girl. Finally a girl opened the door for us, saying we could come in now. She switched to a door closer to us and we filed in.

We rounded up the staircase and into the theatre, where I ended up in a front-row, off-center seat, in front of the last rightmost chair. It was away from stage right, the first chair, where I suspected martin would sit closer to, because he was kind of the first and main guest in my thoughts. There were five director-style chairs on the stage and one typical chair with a red seat, in front of a brick red panel and gold backdrop. The interviewer, I believe, placed an additional red-seated chair next to the last chair in front of me.

 

Photo Credit: Ruther2 on Twitter

Before we sat, Candace filed into the second row, and came up to me, giving me a hug. I didn’t really notice the gesture, I’m hug blind, like Sherlock. Although I understand they must mean a lot, because I don’t ever go that far. She invited me to go get coffee later, with Ariel, Vicky, another girl, and herself and I agreed. Caroline and Blaire also recognized Candace, and said gleefully “Candace!”.

We were all handed Holocaust Educational Trust pamphlets with blank spaces for drawing, another fortunate coincidence. I had not brought paper with me, I didn't know I would need it.  I was mildly surprised by the lack of people, approximately fifty, the majority of which, young female Sherlock fans. We discussed the lack of advertising may play a role, otherwise the local Jewish community might have been more present. I also wound up with a Phoenix Cinema Pamphlet, which surprisingly did not advertise this event either.

I couldn’t find anything else to talk to Blaire about, but since she was also seated next to someone else, I didn’t feel rude staying quiet. I said something stupid about how I felt like Martin was coming in now, which I knew wasn’t true but I was paranoid, and she said he’d likely wait till Q and A to show up. While we waited I got bored, and tried drawing a pic of John’s daughter pulling both the numbskull’s neckties crisscross so their noses are touching, which I’ve decided, has to be the cover for the fic I’m writing. The lights dimmed and the producer Lawrence Burn, I thought he said, but he likely said Bowen, entered and said few words about the people who worked on the project, Ron Huntsford (actor) and Hannah Harents(?), he mentioned, that there would be a short Q and A afterwards, and how proceeds went to the holocaust education trust, which works to make sure the holocaust is never forgotten.

The curtains withdrew to reveal a wide screen and themovie played, with Milton (Martin) repeating himself about proposing his plan to film the trial in the cab.

Throughout the film, I noticed even more than before how he was emulating American behaviour. Frankly I felt he was more American than a full-on American. The movie was agonizing, one of the few times I’ve gotten anxious for the end during a film. By the midpoint, I was rather wishing for it to be over. I'd watched it already so it was abit tedious, altho I noticed a few things I had missed earlier. I noticed how he downplayed his dramatics a bit, while it was still there when Milton exhaled after being almost attacked, vulnerability more common in John was barely there. Also, his outburst of rage made more sense to me then, and I actually noticed him looking at the grenade in the intruder’s hand. A few times I lapsed back into the reality Martin would be present, and the incredibility of it was rather daunting, unreal. I looked at the chairs placed out on the dim stage from time to time. I accidently clicked my pen, which made a noise, and had to unclick it to not dry it out, making two noises. I feel like I might have annoyed my neighbour Blaire. The movie ended and credits rolled.


	2. Chapter 2

I was informed by Candace later, that she saw his shadow behind her. Beth told me when she heard the names announced in sequence, she turned back the wrong way in search of him, so she gradually continued turning further wrong way to make it right, which must've looked awkward. I didn’t look, I think I had brain freeze, maybe because martin, maybe because only five hours of sleep.

The producer returned and informed us that some of the cast and crew were here, calling out their names one by one. The screenwriter Simon Block, actor Nicholas Woodeson, actress Rebecca Front, and a coworker of the real Milton and Leo, filed in. The seats across from me were gradually filled in, leaving the second to last directly in front of me, and the final seat.There was slight surprise when I realized, by process of elimination, I would be perhaps the closest in the audience to Martin. Fortunate coincidence number 2. 3? I’ve lost count. 

I don't think I fully realised, came to terms with the implication, that he was imminently approaching. I don't think I felt it was really possible. Perhaps I still thought he wasn't real. 

Then he was called. He entered down from the right of the audience, just next to us, and gambled up on stage, picking up his mic as he took a seat. The interviewer, Jay Glennie, placed beside him.

Meeting an actor is one of those rare occasions where you only have enough information to recognize the person as a flat image, but not the full knowledge of how they look in real life. What photos do, they compress information, remove depth perception. Sketchers are familiar with this because it’s harder to draw from a photo than real life, things get distorted.

It was remarkable, the weird disparity between seeing an actor as a regular man, versus the product on screen. He seemed very ordinary, regular. I almost laughed to myself like when I saw how ordinary Ben was for the first time. There's also something elusive about Martin, all of his entrances are inconspicuous, most of the time you don't notice he's there until afterwards. His actions when getting settled were efficient, casual and mundane like the natural tasks any other human being might do.

He was in beige, canvas vans, dark green (teal?) rolled ankle-revealing capris, an pinstripe blazer, blue or egg-shell shirt. Someone remarked on tumblr he looked beautiful. I didn’t think much at the time, thought it looked a bit gaudy/tacky maybe, negligibly. And then I realized later it’s because his clothing was all light, it seemed, artsy, almost flowery in colour. It felt effeminate to my distaste, because I wouldn’t wear something like that, but in retrospect, despite my personal wardrobes choices which had little relevance, it did look "beautiful" on him. I'm sorry I don’t know what word to use, but that's the closest one I think. "Aesthetic" is for buildings and other inanimate things, isn't it? I wondered whether he dressed himself at some point, and took a moment to realise how stupid a question that was. I was applying the idea that Martin has everything done for him like they do for him on set, to his actual life, because seeing him on set was the only time I had seen him previously.

The director, screenwriter, original crew, actress, actor, martin, interviewer

Photo Credit: Blackstarjp on Twitter

Martin’s body language was indeed very different. It was excellent. He fidgeted, changed position every minute or less, much like a model in a figure drawing class. Except not naked. But I never really liked that part anyway. I’m not lying. Well, whatever, think what you will. I don’t care. No, I kind of do. I don’t think about Martin naked. He has my respect. I’m different than the norm, I suppose, as admittedly, there were some people in the audience mentally undressing him. At any rate, clothes are good for us here. While they conceal his exterior, they give us some additional information about the interior of his person.

So… his body language was excellent because while I couldn’t very well take pictures with my phone sitting three feet from him (I take care not to treat people like zoo animals, or like the iPhone salute brigade treats Benny), I could immortalize each moment by sketching the poses, with the pen I had brought and the paper I had been supplied with. I recorded the majority of his positions, which were fascinating, and he actually made me laugh, which was awkward, being right in front of him. I kept my glancing to a minimum, and avoided his face at first, which was odd because that was what I’d come there to do, see his face in three dimensions. But I couldn't stare at him dead-on, being right in front of him. I stole glances at his feet, canvas shoes, crossed legs clad in fabric I couldn't decide the colour of. The member of the 1961 crew really captured his attention (Martin leaned forward, and looked genuinely intrigued) who was talking about Milton (easy to work with) and Leo (not so easy), and by then I was able to get a better look at his face. It was bathed in overhead light and he looked a bit scruffy, unshaven, but the beard was gone and I could see all of his face, familiar but different. He wasn't as sharp-jawed as he was for the hobbit premiere. I think I preferred his face in pictures, but that's because I was more accustomed to them, like how people typically prefer the appearance of their reflection from being accustomed to look in the mirror, while others prefer how you look unreflected. His shoulders were made a bit narrow by the cut of his jacket, and he did look smaller in real life, but the man is not that short, or remarkably short, or even worth mentioning short, so we can skip that. 

The first thing that made it hard to repress a smile was the interviewer was made nervous and completely daunted by Martin. He stammered on his third or forth question, the first addressed to Martin. It was very obvious, inarticulate, I can’t imagine how Martin managed to respond to something that sounded so scrambled and illogical. He appeared gracefully unaffected, but another perspective was supplied to me that suggested he was edging away from the stammering, slightly obsessive interviewer. I smiled at my pen and kept drawing. I found him on twitter afterward, if you care for his perspective.

 

**[](https://twitter.com/Britannium)Jay Glennie**  @Britannium   [Apr 22](https://twitter.com/Britannium/status/590841307129516032)

[@eventim_uk](https://twitter.com/eventim_uk) [@EventimApollo](https://twitter.com/EventimApollo) Indeed! I conduct Q&A's, last one with Martin Freeman last Sunday...

 

[**ct**  @Lue4028 ](https://twitter.com/Lue4028)  [Apr 22](https://twitter.com/Lue4028/status/590855728472141826)

[@Britannium](https://twitter.com/Britannium) [@eventim_uk](https://twitter.com/eventim_uk) [@EventimApollo](https://twitter.com/EventimApollo) Neat! Did you get Martin's autograph? 

 

 

[**Jay Glennie**  @Britannium ](https://twitter.com/Britannium)  [Apr 22](https://twitter.com/Britannium/status/590863113601294336)  
[@Lue4028](https://twitter.com/Lue4028) [@eventim_uk](https://twitter.com/eventim_uk) [@EventimApollo](https://twitter.com/EventimApollo) heh, heh! No, too busy chatting :)

[**ct**  @Lue4028 ](https://twitter.com/Lue4028)  [Apr 22](https://twitter.com/Lue4028/status/590864906712395776)

[@Britannium](https://twitter.com/Britannium) [@eventim_uk](https://twitter.com/eventim_uk) [@EventimApollo](https://twitter.com/EventimApollo) Would you say he's a nice guy or was he sassy? 

 

[**Jay Glennie**  @Britannium ](https://twitter.com/Britannium)  [Apr 22](https://twitter.com/Britannium/status/590866240396210176)

[@Lue4028](https://twitter.com/Lue4028) [@eventim_uk](https://twitter.com/eventim_uk) [@EventimApollo](https://twitter.com/EventimApollo) uncomfortable speaking of Martin but suffice to say he's a gent, erudite, charming & a snappy dresser!

Martin liked to cross his legs, but couldn’t decide which one was better on top and which on the bottom. He fussed with his fingernails, dabbing them in the centre of his palm. His gaze was mostly directed at the others speaking,

Photo Credit: Blackstarjp on Twitter

but he did bow over and stroke his eyebrows at one point. He would smooth the back of his hair with a pat and rest his chin is his hand, or on his knuckles. He would sit sideways, forward, or diagonal. He placed a hand on his knee, which reminded me of a fanfiction I’d read where Sherlock explicitly noted John’s habit of rubbing circles into his knees. He would cross his arms often, lean an upper arm against his chair, rubbing his lips. Or, If he wanted, he'd cross over to lean his arm on the top corner of his _neighbour's_ chair, who pretended as coolly as possible not to notice. He bent over elbows on his knees, dangling his mic by the chord like a _yo-yo_. He also bent his foot to place the sole of his shoe on the seat of his chair, and braced his retracted leg against his body with his hands. It was childish, not even childish, rebellious and teenager-y, my lips where obviously squirming into a smirk while I scribbled. I don’t know if he noticed, I obviously wasn't looking at him while trying to contain myself. Horrible how, compared to him, I have so little control over my face.

Martin spoke in his London accent, obviously, which is John's, and elaborated questions into a sort of casual, contemplative, unrehearsed speech like you might in lit class, with the fluency of an actor. He said that while he was aware nothing they could do as actors would be as dramatic as the footage of the holocaust, he was happy to be a part of something that educated people about it. He said playing the role of Milton was not like playing Ghandi, no one would notice if he walked the way Milton did so there was some artistic freedom in that. He said he didn’t understand when people said if something’s in the past, it’s not relevant. He supplied the name of a figure I couldn’t quite catch, and said people were still talking about him, weren’t they? Point remains, holocaust is still relevant because it can happen again, I think he would want you to know that if you don't already.

When Serena asked a very articulate question about the film’s current impact and gave a brief background of current right and left wing political groups in Germany, both Martin and another guest speaker began speaking at the same time in response. He, very obligingly, let her go first. He was then offered the mic, spoke a bit and sure as hell sounded intelligent (elaborating again), but realized he didn’t have a very good answer to the question. He actually admitted this after his train of thought, and signed off with an I’m sorry. It was the most bizarre, yet I’m gradually beginning to learn, characteristic display of transparency I’d seen on stage. Serena informed me that she was pleased he seemed to like the question.

Conclusion: Martin is just inherently non-conformist, thank dear god. It's a breath of fresh air. It's written in the way he walks, talks, dresses, and, sits. It's why he selectively wears floral-light clothing that sticks out like a sore thumb while the rest of london sulks around in dark drab. That's why he curls up on his seat like a teenager surfing the web in his bedroom, when he's actually on stage. THat's why he's so unnaturally direct, honest and forthcoming on stage. Its not conscious effort like I do because I'm allergic to conformity. It's almost like he can't help it (but why would he?). I suspect that's largely what makes him an artist and so original.

Photo Credit: Blackstarjp on Twitter

Photo Credit: Blackstarjp on Tumblr

The Russian girl asked a question about a woman who studied Eichmann and stuttered a bit, which is probably why there's this confused look on all their faces. The director responded saying that the women’s theory had fitted Eichmann to it, not it to Eichmann, and was mostly discredited and therefore not included. She also was only present at the trial for two weeks, and then left, so her presence was not deemed relevant for the purposes of the film.

 

Photo Credit: Blackstarjp on Twitter

The director informed us we had time for only one more question, because he suspected other films were scheduled to take place, and this was followed by some light laughter. An indistinct non-question arose from the back that I didn’t pay attention to, and the Q and A was concluded without response from the cast/crew. I wanted to stay in my chair, but everyone rose next to me, and Martin was out of his seat, on the floor just next to me. I saw how he walked, and realized how much I wanted sketches of him walking too. It’s more dynamic pose. I couldn’t very well do it now though, he was close and there was no excuse for staring at him now, he wasn’t on stage. He shook the hands of the coworker nearest him, and then crossed to midstage, and reached up to shake two other people's amoung the crew who were still on stage. He was then detained by the interviewer who asked him demurely for his autograph, and Martin _actually_ took his pen and paper. I had turned my back, obviously unoccupied and too close to stand idly and stare at him, but while I was particularly compelled to do that, I couldn’t exactly make myself leave either. The man was obsequiously nice after receiving the autograph, and chatted Martin up a little, but Martin didn’t do much talking. Serena later told me she thanked him for his response to her politcal question, and by her account he was extremely affable and, I hate to say it but, sweet in return. He touched her on the arm and said have a nice day.

Have a nice day. Martin Freeman in all his witty, sarcastic and sassy glory said have a nice day.

He then turned to leave, taking off behind me. I followed, feeling like I could leave now, and rush of people came between us, not to my explicit disappointment though. After being close to him for long enough, I felt like it wasn't a precious commodity, so much as just sitting across from another human being. He signed something on his way up the theatre, and actually obliged to take a selfie with a blonde, and exited the room. Looking over the banister, I watched him walk down the stairs with people crowding him, asking for autographs. Someone international, Japanese specifically, got another photo of him with a weak smile. I lost track of him and followed the current outside.

I came down the steps, my attention directed toward Blaire and Caroline, away from the theatre. When I happened to turn around, Martin was right there, standing behind me. I had walked right past him without noticing, and was extremely close, a few feet away. He had been detained, on his way out, likely signing for someone.

 

> [blackstarjp](http://blackstarjp.tumblr.com/post/116200483414/martin-freeman-at-the-eichmann-show-q-a-x):
>
>> Martin Freeman at The Eichmann Show Q&A ([x](https://twitter.com/chapo73/status/587241784855633920))
> 
> Yes. He was this good looking and more today. All this photo is lacking is ankle. *sigh*

  
Source: [blackstarjp](http://blackstarjp.tumblr.com/post/116200483414/martin-freeman-at-the-eichmann-show-q-a-thank-you)

He finished and proceeded down the sidewalk toward the tube station, but a few people chased after him for a autograph.

“I have to go,” he said, tilted his head in the direction of his travel, “so walk with me.” He added, heading off again.

What do you think we did? I followed automatically, walking past Candace, like I was in a trance, she later described to me. We followed him like ducklings, and Candace confirmed later that's what it looked like. The crowd started dropping off as he walked. He signed an autograph, sauntered briskly off, the people tailing him dwindled. I stopped following, but another girl in a skirt (international) ran after him for an autograph and he said again.

“I need to walk,” he said, craning his head back as he stepped forward another pace with the opposite foot, clutching his bag with a stiff, Watson-like gait, “so follow me.” Blaire contends he and Watson walk different. Candace says they walk the same. I don't know, how various are walking patterns anyway? His bag- light coloured, artsy but tasteful like the rest of his attire, no idea what was in it, looked empty, if it had been mine I would have put my wallet and keys it. He must have had car keys in there.

Another conclusion. He was rather unusual there, I think. If he was busy, he could have just walked off, without making the effort of telling us to follow him. The fact that he did, complied with evidence aforementioned ( obliging the other actress, ladies first, going out of his way to shaking hands with his coworkers before he left, doing a signature for the creepy interviewer), is a strong indication that Martin must be a kind, considerate, even generous person. He hates being called nice, he thinks it’s a insult. (He thinks a lot of things are insults, I think he's insecure like all good artists) He’s also very temperamental and a sassy little bugger. But the man is full of contradictions.

I followed him like a pet Labrador until I was the only one left and stopped, as he turned the corner into a southern cross street by the station. I saw his receding form walking down the sidewalk of Baronsmere road, smiled, not creepily, okay, nostalgically, and took a picture. I don’t think he’d mind really, it’s only the back. But it was significant enough for me. It’s the last time I’ll see him, it’s his exit. Bye, Martin.

 

Or so I thought. I went back looking for Candace, who I had lost outside the theatre. I couldn’t be alone right then. It was more emotion than I was accustomed to in my day-to-day, not-celebrity-frequented life. The theatre front was deserted now, excluding the crew and cast within who were having a pleasant and intellectual informal discussion. I went back and forth along the pavement, then to the station, then to the inherently-useless mcdonalads headquarters because the M means internet to me now, then back across the street to the theatre and down across the storefront, back to where martin had left us and “oscillated on the pavement”.

I looked down the street and saw martin, cross the street to something behind the yellow van. His silver mini cooper. He pulled out and drove further down the street, silhouette visible through the untinted side windows. I was surprised he had driven himself here, again applying that silly concept that he has people doing things for him because he’s an actor, which didn’t apply there because he’s not acting. That was perhaps the stupidest thought to fly through my head that day. I mean really? It was charity event, why would they drive him? I was a bit conscious he might see me and I didn’t pay attention to him much, busy looking for Candace.

In summary, Martin had 1. shook the hands of members of the cast, which I would later understand was a swift and polite exit 2. With the exception of selfies and signatures, didn't waste any time leaving the theatre, triggering a mass exodus 3. didn't stay afterward like the rest of cast/crew (which could be for any number of reasons but we'll zero it down to one) 4. told his fans to follow him while he walked. So conclusion: Martin seemed to be in a bit of a hurry.

But where was he going? Blaire later told me he said he was going to pick up his son.

Yes, that's why he said he had to walk, he had somewhere to be. Not somewhere exclusive or inaccessible, somewhere every parent has to be.


End file.
